Unity
by brionyjae
Summary: Everyone is back at Hogwarts after the defeat of Voldemort. Harry intends to just get through the year with as little fuss as possible... HD Slash! Includes firewhiskey, awkward moments, Spin the Bottle, flying, a Ball and a hell of a lot of flirting.
1. Preface

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, just having a bit of fun!

**A/N: **Hiya guys! I am indeed back, after a year-that-felt-longer of barely any writing! Gosh. I don't know how I survived. Anyways, here is a new story that I've been working on… it's slightly AU, as Dumbledore is still alive, and the Deathly Hallows is ignored for the most part. Enjoy! :)

_~Unity~_

**Summary: **Everyone is back at Hogwarts after the defeat of Voldemort, having missed a year when the school closed down. Harry intends to just get through the year with as little fuss as possible, but one of Dumbledore's brilliant ideas, combined with fate, simply will not allow this. A new class is introduced in order to unite Hogwarts again, aptly named "Unity". As to be expected, Harry is paired with Draco Malfoy… HD Slash! Includes firewhiskey, awkward moments, Spin the Bottle, flying, a Ball and a hell of a lot of flirting. ;)

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_~Preface~_

Okay. Imagine this. He, Harry Potter, was swaying awkwardly to some sort of warbling, slow song, probably to Celestina Warbeck, in the middle of the Great Hall, in public view. He was actually _dancing_!

But that was not what made his stomach flip-flop, not what was causing his knees to feel like jelly, or his mind to feel oddly detached. No.

Harry was dancing with Draco Malfoy.

His arms were bending around Draco's waist, trying not to touch too much of the blonde's warm body. His fingers barely brushed Draco's back. Harry held his head up, carefully not resting it on Draco's shoulder, or letting it come into contact with the other boy's head.

Draco, on the other hand, had his arms draped around Harry's neck, and was softly twirling locks of Harry's messy hair around his fingers. He had _his_ head leaning on Harry's shoulder, albeit his face turned away from Harry's neck. They were standing so close that Harry could feel Draco's chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Harry hoped to Merlin that Draco couldn't feel the thumping of his own heart.

This was not how Harry had thought it would be. Not at all! He was hardly even worrying about standing on Draco's feet, or tripping over his shoes. Even the fact that there were people probably watching didn't scare him as much as it should. In fact, it was taking all of Harry's concentration and mind power to stop himself going crazy. All he could focus on… was Draco.

Damn, he must already be crazy.

Abruptly, Draco lifted his head and leaned back slightly to look at Harry's face.

"Why the hell are you holding me like a china doll? You're extremely… stiff," Draco frowned and raised an eyebrow. Harry blushed and cleared his throat. Oh Merlin. Bad choice of word.

"I told you, I don't dance!" Harry hissed back. Draco quirked a smile.

"Well, for once Potter, you're right. Come on," he added more quietly, more gently. "You just have to relax. Curve your arms a bit more, let your muscles go loose. Move your hands around a bit, just to hang there."

Harry swallowed and bit his tongue, but did what Draco said. Immediately, his arms fitted into Draco's waist perfectly, surprisingly. He sighed unconsciously, and moved a little closer to Draco. Their bodies were now snug, pressed flush together. Harry wished he had taken off his jacket, as he was feeling too warm, all over.

"You're learning," Draco said, with what Harry just knew was a smirk. Was it just Harry, or did Draco sound breathless? "Right. Now your head just needs to… well, not be so… frozen." He seriously must have been possessed by something, because he gave not a thought to his next action - he tilted his head forwards and rested his chin on Draco's shoulder.

Harry felt Draco sigh now, and lent his head ever-so-lightly against Harry's. His soft blonde hair tickled Harry's cheek.

"See? Much better," Draco whispered, his breath sliding over his ear. Harry suppressed a shiver and closed his eyes. Oh sweet, sweet Merlin. What had he gotten himself into?

Harry knew that things could change. Quite often, in fact. He knew that things could change as quickly as someone pointing a wand and speaking a spell. He knew that.

The war had changed things. It had changed him, and it had changed Ginny. He had been so sure of their relationship, of where they stood. Before. But how could you really ever be sure of anything if it was just going to change again?

And now this. With his current state of a numb mind, Harry simply couldn't even try to understand what this dance meant. What Draco's words, his actions, meant. He couldn't!

They had been enemies. They were supposed to be enemies – weren't they?

But they weren't.

Because, amidst all of the awkward (but strangely perfect) dancing, the closeness of their bodies, the pounding of Harry's heart, and Draco's breath kissing his ear, there was only one thing that _was_ for certain.

And it proved that Harry really was, completely and utterly, crazy.

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brionyjae xox


	2. Never Let This Go

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter was a bit slow in coming! Unsure how often I will be able to update, due to university demands, but I will do my best. I reckon it will make for a nice study break. =) Thanks to those that reviewed, hope to see more feedback soon! Enjoy! =)

* * *

_* * *_

_Please don't get me wrong  
Because I'll never let this go  
But I can't find the words to tell you_

_* * *_

**Unity:** _noun_

1. being united; being in agreement.

2. something whole that is made up of parts.

_~Chapter One: Never Let This Go~_

"You are completely and utterly _crazy_!"

Ron's yell vibrated through the boy's dormitory, loud enough that even Neville heard it from the depths under his bed, where he was searching for his already lost bottle of ink. Seamus rolled his eyes at Harry, followed by a cheeky wink that Harry felt like rolling his own eyes at. Instead, he childishly stuck out his tongue at Seamus. He wrenched his socks on with one hand while throwing his quill and some parchment into his satchel with the other.

"We can't miss breakfast!" Ron continued when nobody bothered to reply. "Lunch is _ages_ away!"

"Well, Ron, sorry to have to tell you this mate, but we already _have_ missed breakfast," Dean said, attempting to be the peacemaker. It didn't help so much that he was currently wrestling his textbooks into his bag in a manner that was decidedly anything but peaceful. "And besides, do you really think it will go down well if we're late to our first "Unity" class of the year?"

"I can't wait to see what the new professor's like," Seamus chipped in. He tipped all the textbooks he would need into his bag and threw it over his shoulder, looking thoroughly unconcerned about the fact that they'd all overslept. "She was definitely something at the welcoming feast last week."

The new professor had certainly aroused curiosity, with her wink and audible chuckle when Dumbledore had said that she was filling in a rather different position. He had _not_, however, said what subject she'd be teaching. All they knew was that the class was called "Unity", and was first thing on Monday mornings. They hadn't had it last week, as they were all still receiving their timetables, and so were understandably eager to find out what it was all about.

"Yeah, well, we all know that you'd go for anything with legs, Seamus," Dean hid a smile behind his hand, and was forced to duck as Seamus' shoe suddenly flew towards him.

"I'll have you know that I actually have high standards," Seamus said, a wide grin plastered on his face. "And with someone as attractive as me, it's rather necessary."

"Enough about your bloody sex life," Ron grumbled. "All I want is some flipping food!"

"Just c'mon Ron, we're late as it is," Harry said, sympathetically grinning at him when he opened his mouth to retort. Ron settled with muttering incoherently under his breath, and so ten seconds later, the five boys were finally ready to sprint to class.

The classroom was already packed when the five boys tumbled in, but thankfully, the new professor hadn't arrived yet. The boys took up the remaining seats to wait. Harry and Ron both tactfully avoided Hermione's glare that only too clearly spoke her reproach for their near tardiness.

Even though they'd been back at Hogwarts for a week already, everything still felt surreal to Harry. The professors all seemed to be pretending that nothing had happened, that Hogwarts had never been closed down... that the final battle had never taken place. That life was completely normal.

Normal had never been one of Harry's specialties.

Brisk footsteps broke into Harry's thoughts, and he unconsciously straightened in his chair to look at the new professor. He hadn't gotten a good view of her at the feast. Now that she was right in front of them, Harry could see her honey coloured hair curl around her face, and her brown eyes shining at the class. He cheeks were slightly flushed, probably from the quick walk here, and she was carrying a large folder of papers.

"So sorry I'm late," she said flashing a smile, and dumped the folder onto the desk with a _thud_! The professor paused for a moment, before walking around her desk to sit casually on it to look out at the class. Harry saw the raised eyebrow of Hermione out of the corner of his eye, and bit back a smile.

"My name is Professor Dashfield, but I think it would be more suitable to call me by my first name, which is Rose." Her eyes swept over everyone, and she seemed amused by all of the blank looks. "Now, I realise that you lot don't even know what class you're sitting in right now, so I think that's a good place for us to begin.

"Professor Dumbledore has introduced this new class in light of the events that have been occurring in the wizarding world. And by that, I'm sure you all can guess that I mean the war with Lord Voldemort." Rose spoke with a bluntness that sent a shock through Harry's body, and he hurriedly fixed his eyes on his quill in case she looked at him.

"The end of the war brought a lot of peace to our world, but our world is still not completely healed. There are scars. Scars left by the divisions of our people, betrayals, battles... death," Rose spoke quietly, the only sound in the suddenly silent classroom. Harry's stomach tossed itself, and he bit his lip hard. Maybe he was lucky that he hadn't had time for breakfast.

"And so we need to heal. Not to put the war behind us and forget about it, but to embrace what it has given us. Hogwarts is not working with the concept of unity. And yes, that is this class' name – Unity. It is not a N.E.W.T.S. assessed course, but let me warn you now, it is crucial for your graduation of Hogwarts. There will be assignments of a kind, and topics that we will cover. But most importantly... this class is for you guys."

Rose paused, once again turning her warm brown eyes onto everyone in the class. It was made up of all the seventh years, which wasn't actually as big a group as it would have been before the war. Harry knew that while all of the students had been invited back to Hogwarts to repeat the year that they had missed last year when the school had been closed, not all of the students accepted this.

"This class will help you all. To repair the broken relationships, particularly between houses. Even within houses. To essentially unite you once more, as Hogwarts, as one. Now, some of the topics that we will be covering will be difficult. Maybe even too hard for you. You may think it's a waste of time, that you can't be bothered trying. And if you can't, well fine. But it is in your best interests, all of you, to try. And believe me, you _will_ try. So suck it up!"

Rose's voice was stern by the end of her speech, and the class blinked at her in similar states of shock. Harry looked up from his quill with widened eyes, and was not at all assured by her warm and again amused eyes. Wasn't it unnecessary to have such a class, when most of them wouldn't see each other again after this year? Personally, Harry had been hoping to get through this year without even looking at the Slytherins.

"Excellent! So that's all the boring talk out of the way... let's get onto the interesting stuff!"

Rose's eyes now glinted with what Harry took to be a dangerous gleam, and he groaned softly – not that anyone heard it, because the whole class was now making their own opinions on the matter heard.

"What the hell is this?" Ron scrunched up his nose at Harry. "What a load of dragon dung!"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, leaning across him so that Harry could hear. "I think this is a good idea, it's what Hogwarts needs!" Harry grimaced at Ron and slid his eyes away. No surprises there. Thankfully, Harry was spared the need to reply when Rose cleared her throat, and crossed her arms.

"I know this idea is weird to you. But aren't you all used to weird by now?" she raised an eyebrow delicately, and the muttering faded into dust.

The names on the attendance roll floated by Harry's ears, but he didn't really hear them. Trust Dumbledore to come up with a scheme like this... sometimes it was impossible to see the old man's sanity.

"Today's class is ridiculously easy," Rose said, now levitating a sheet of paper from her folder to every student. "All you need to do it fill in this questionnaire. However, there is a twist – you will be in pairs, and you will be writing down your partners answers. These pairs are permanent, and in any pair work that we do in this class, you will be with this assigned person. Look at today's class as a 'getting to know you' exercise."

Harry quickly scanned the paper on his desk – hmm, it did seem quite simple. Favourite colour, favourite food...

Rose started reading out the pairs, where it seemed that most of the Ravenclaws were being paired with Hufflepuffs. Harry rolled his eyes; that would test the Ravenclaws' patience.

"Hermione and Theodore, Seamus and Pansy, Dean and Millicent..." Rose seemed to prefer to use their first names – another difference. Harry sat staring at the desk, waiting for his name.

Looking back, he should have known who he'd be paired with.

It was only too obvious – who else would have made more (or less) sense? The whole purpose was to unite Hogwarts... well, how could Hogwarts be united if the two arch enemies of seventh year were to remain so?

"... and... Harry and Draco."

Fuck.

This would not work. At all. How in Merlin's name could Harry be expected to – to _unite_ with Draco Malfoy?

Draco _fucking_ Malfoy!

If their rivalry had been anything of significance before the war really started, it was nothing compared to what Harry felt now. Nothing. He couldn't even be certain that he would be able to say the boy's name without exploding.

Suddenly, this 'simple' task had turned out to be not so simple.

Harry jumped when Hermione tapped his arm.

"We have to move to our partners now. I'm... really sorry that you got Malfoy," she said cautiously, sympathetically. She lifted on shoulder, as if to suggest that there was nothing he could do about it. And she was right. There wasn't.

Merlin, if this was karma, he must have been a fucking mass murderer in his previous life to deserve this.

"Yeah," Harry ground out through tight lips, and grabbed his things and questionnaire. No doubt Draco would just sitting, waiting for Harry to come to _him_. Harry's fist tightened around the paper, creasing it.

He got to his feet, avoiding Hermione's gaze, and looked around the room. He half-hoped not to see Draco – maybe there had been some mistake. Perhaps he had decided not to stay at Hogwarts for their final year. Admittedly, he had seen him in a couple of their classes, but had thoroughly ignored him, and the favour had been returned. Maybe Draco wouldn't be there...

A flash of white blonde hair caught Harry's eye, and he turned to see Draco sitting near the back of the room, next to Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. A lump settled into Harry's chest, and he bit his lip to stop it curling in disgust. Ron was ahead of him, and was dragging a chair over to Blaise tensely, his jaw locked. Seamus, however, looked almost as amused as the professor had, and was lounging on his chair, smirking slightly at Pansy's narrowed eyes.

After standing still for a moment, Harry sighed. Fiercely hating every step he took, he edged over to the blonde. Far too soon, Harry was next to the table Draco sat at.

"Are you really going to this standing up?" His drawling voice was just as Harry remembered it, the familiarity of it imprinted in his brain. Draco didn't even bother to look up at Harry, but continued to study his nails. Harry rolled his eyes violently and sat heavily on a pulled-up chair. He forced himself to look at Draco, but the latter still didn't acknowledge him. What a surprise.

"Are you going to do this at all?" Harry hissed, gritting his teeth with difficulty to keep himself from shouting.

"I can't wait," Draco rolled his own eyes, sitting up straighter and picking up his quill delicately. Harry scowled at his paper, and scratched Draco's name up the top. A snort sounded from beside Harry, and Draco's quill was poised above the first question, "Favourite Colour".

"Let me guess – red?"

"Yes," Harry bit out. "I'll take it yours is green?"

Draco smirked, and so Harry took that as a yes. They passed the next few items with relative ease – "Favourite Food", "Favourite Sweet" (Draco's was Chocolate Frogs – how original).

"Favourite Subject..." Harry read, absently stroking his quill feather along his chin.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Draco raised an eyebrow smugly, but didn't even bother to look up at Harry – indeed, the words sounded more like a statement than a real question.

"So, what?" Harry said, back immediately up.

"Merlin, you are _so_ predictable," Draco rolled his eyes at Harry.

"Oh, and you aren't? Your favourite subject is Potions!" The reliable flicker of anger curled in Harry's chest, and he bit his cheek, trying to rein it in.

"I'd like to see you do something that surprises me," Draco scoffed. Still not looking at Harry. Actually, he was elegantly tracing a snitch on his paper.

"You think you – you know me? You think that just because you know my favourite subject, means that you can predict my every move?" Harry clenched his fingers around his quill so that a drop of ink splashed over his paper. Taking a deep breath seemed like a good idea. He couldn't give Draco the satisfaction of seeing that he was riling him this early in the term.

Draco's head snapped up – finally – and he stared Harry straight in the eyes. Harry waited, waited for the flash of temper that was so easy with them both. So normal.

And waited.

"Green," Draco said abruptly, shifting his gaze back to the questionnaire and scratching something down. Harry blinked, anger suddenly forgotten.

"Uh... excuse me?"

"Your eyes, Potter, are green," Draco drawled, his mouth snaking itself into another smirk. Harry let his mouth hang open for a few moments before checking the next question – "Eye Colour". Feeling slightly foolish, Harry forced himself to look at Draco's eyes.

Come to think of, Harry had never truly looked at Draco's eyes before. Sure, he'd read emotions in them – the basic ones, like fury, arrogance. But he'd never really paid much attention to how specks of light blue merged with tiny slices of green, which were only small additions to the smooth silver that filled Draco's irises. And there wasn't fury in his eyes now – perhaps Harry _could_ detect a small amount of arrogance in them, some mockery... but there was something else.

Something that didn't belong, something... too raw to be properly revealed.

Harry blinked, and it was gone. He lowered his eyes to the parchment.

"Your eyes are silver," he said, and wrote it down. Harry moved his fingers down to the next question – and froze.

"Best and Worst Childhood Memory".

Swallowing thickly, Harry raised his head at the same time Draco did, and for once, they didn't argue.

"I am not answering that."

"No way in hell."

It was all downhill from that question – clearly, Harry had underestimated how many damn things a person needed to ask in order to 'get to know' somebody. The next question was far too cheesy to be answered – "Favourite Place in the World". Seriously, getting all deep and meaningful with Draco Malfoy was something that didn't even seem feasible in a sentence. And come on, "The Bravest/Hardest Thing You've Ever Done" was just unnecessary, when you're Harry.

"Oh, this is just ridiculous..." Harry muttered, when they came across "Something You've Done That You Regret". Draco remained quiet and continued moving down the page. Searching for a question that they would actually answer.

They both paused at "What You Used To Want To Be When You Grew Up". Perhaps this one was innocent enough...

"Of course, the Golden Boy either wanted to be an Auror or a Quidditch Player?" Draco smirked again and was writing before Harry could answer. "_So_ predictable," he added under his breath. Harry huffed and threw back,

"Well, I bet the Slytherin Prince was always desperate to be a Death Eater just like his daddy!"

Draco flinched as though receiving an electric shock, and slowly set his quill down perfectly above his paper. His eyes stabbed Harry, who was now noticing the silver liquid flash darkly at him in pure rage.

"Don't you dare talk about my father, Potter," his voice laced with ice, which also surprisingly seemed thin enough to shatter. "At least _my _father was around to see what became of me."

If they hadn't been in the middle of class, Harry severely doubted that he would have been able to stop himself punching Draco through the floor. He held his shaking fingers into tight fists, looking away from the blonde.

"But was that such a blessing, Malfoy?" Harry asked in a death whisper. He couldn't bring himself to look back at Draco, sure that if he did, something may just snap. Therefore, Harry didn't see his reaction, or if he had even heard Harry. Judging by the solid silence, he could measure a guess that Draco had definitely heard.

The last ten minutes of class dragged by so achingly slow that Harry had already fantasised about several ways to die that would be preferable to being here with Draco Malfoy – such as being chopped up into tiny pieces and then handed to the Giant Squid on a silver platter. Better yet, have Draco die so that he would never have to speak or see him again.

"Have you finished there?" Rose appeared standing next to the desk, checking everyone's work. Both Harry and Draco continued their silence as she surveyed their half completed forms. Rose looked at them for a second.

"Don't worry," she said, startling Harry into looking up at her. "You can answer the other questions another time." And with a satisfied smile, she swept away to the front of the classroom.

"Great work today guys, see you next week!"

Harry scooped up all his things and stuffed them into his satchel, seeing out the corner of his eye that Draco was moving just as fast, admittedly much more gracefully. He swung his bag onto his shoulder and didn't even wait for Ron or Hermione before leaving the room. Harry leant heavily against the wall outside the classroom. Guess he better let them catch him up rather than just getting as far away as possible – exactly what a strong half of himself was yelling at him to do.

Before Ron and Hermione got there, however, Draco walked out of the room with Blaise and Pansy on either side of him. Pansy, who was closest to Harry, gave him such a dirty look that Harry actually thought she might be able to rival Bellatrix on that front. On the other hand, Blaise was looking rather amused. Harry rolled his eyes; stupid Slytherins.

Without his permission, Harry's eyes slid to Draco. Merlin, how could he stand himself? Arrogant bastard. Draco was looking straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge Harry's presence. Ignoring him completely.

"Harry," he heard Hermione call out. Harry stared for one second longer after Draco's retreating back, and then firmly turned to his friends.

All in all, Harry was grateful when it was finally dinner time. What with the 'healing' crap, a gruelling Transfiguration class with a merciless McGonagall, and then a draining Charms class, it felt like Harry had already been back at Hogwarts for a month. Their homework pile certainly indicated as much. He collapsed onto the bench next to Seamus, while Ron and Hermione sat opposite him, and dug into some food.

"So, that Unity class is something, huh?" Seamus began the conversation innocently, although there was an obvious grin darting around the surfaces of his expression.

"Trust you, Seamus, to actually find this entertaining," Dean sighed and dropped his head on one hand. "I got a flipping troll for a partner. At least Parkinson is mildly nice to look at."

"Oh really," Seamus shook his head solemnly. "I never knew you were so shallow, Dean, darling." He let out a snort of laughter when Dean flicked a crust of bread at his face and missed.

"Yeah, well, I doubt your partners are as high and mighty as the perfect _god _Zabini," Ron grumbled, stabbing a sausage with his fork. "Except maybe Malfoy," he added as an afterthought, looking up at Harry with a scrunched nose and almost looking like he could hurl his lunch back onto the table. Hermione rolled her eyes exaggeratingly and said in a stage-whisper, "Drama Queen!"

"Who's a drama queen?" a cheerful voice came from behind Harry, and Ginny strolled up to the group with a smile.

"Dear Ronald, of course," Hermione muttered, but flashed her friend a welcoming grin. Harry slid over on the bench to make room for Ginny.

"Hey. How's your day been?" she said, eyes measuring Harry's mood.

"Fine," Harry set down his goblet with a tiny bit more force than necessary.

"You're a terrible liar, Harry," Ginny raised her eyebrows, but started filling up her plate.

Harry made no attempt to answer, so Ginny appealed to Hermione for an explanation, and was soon given one.

"Oh, c'mon, you've survived a freaking war with You-Know-Who," Ginny gave Harry a pointed look. "You can survive working with Malfoy."

"I think I'd take another round with Voldemort, thanks," Harry shot back darkly, swallowing the suddenly cardboard-potato with difficulty. He tried to get another mouthful of vegetables down, but gave up.

"Well, you'll never be able to use the same excuse as Dean," Seamus nudged Harry's arm. "Malfoy's certainly no troll."

"Urgh, I can't believe you'd even _think_ about kind of thing," Ron groaned, and Seamus had to dodge yet more food being fired his way.

"Hey, at least you have Quidditch trials to look forward to," Ginny smiled at Harry. Harry's position as Quidditch Captain had been renewed this year, but somehow he couldn't even muster enthusiasm for that.

"Yeah... thanks, Gin," Harry tried to smile back at her. She was trying, yes. And he did appreciate that, truly. But, sometimes... Quidditch wasn't enough. He pushed his fork around on his plate, mushing the food together. The general talk at the table turned to speculation of who would end up on each house's team, and who would have the best chances of winning.

Harry sat there for a little while longer, until it was an acceptable enough time to leave dinner. He stood up, watching as Ron, Hermione and Ginny all looked up at him with startled looks.

"Harry? Aren't you going to... wait for us?" Hermione said. She bit her lip, but Harry could only feel so guilty about worrying her.

"Yeah, uh, I really need to get to the library and try and start some of these essays," he spun. "It's like I've forgotten everything."

"I'm sure the professors won't go too hard on us for these first couple of weeks," Ginny said reassuringly. "We are all out of practice."

"Yeah. I didn't do enough work over the weekend though." And without letting any of them protest anymore, he swung his legs over the bench and headed off to the doors. Quick footsteps ran after him, and Harry sighed before turning around.

Ginny stood in front of Harry, within a foot of him given that he had stopped so fast.

"Don't study too late. I'd like to spend some time with you later, if you'd like." She hesitantly reached out and squeezed his hand, letting her fingers linger and stroke his palm.

"Sure," Harry agreed, actually anything but sure that he would keep this promise. Ginny smiled and stretched up on her tip-toes to kiss Harry lightly on his lips. He brushed her hair briefly with one hand, before he turned and left the Great Hall.

Instead of heading to the library, however, Harry slipped outside the front gates and tread over the grass towards the lake. The darkening sky was a splash of black ink, but the air was still warm. Harry flopped down under a tree, tipped his head back to lean against the trunk, and let his eyes fall shut.

If Harry had been disconcerted that everyone had seemed to have forgotten the past, well he didn't know what feeling was hurling around inside of him. A whole class devoted to uniting Hogwarts, acknowledging all the things that had indeed happened and moving on?

Moving on.

Easy enough to say, but in practice...

It was like Harry was stuck behind a pane of glass watching the world continue. Stuck there, unable to shatter his way out unable to slice his way through the pain that the memories brought, and the absolute fear of forgetting. And the professors, his friends, everyone seemed to carry on. With life.

Sometimes, he just couldn't stand his friends. They meant well, of course, but... he couldn't do it. He couldn't put on this mask, walk around and smile and be happy and normal.

It wasn't that he didn't try. Harry did try, for his their sakes. Tried to do as they did, and pretend it hadn't happened, that it was all over.

But it wasn't. All of those things _had_ happened. Harry just couldn't get his head around the fact that they had to sit N.E.W.T.S this year – and he was supposed to be _worried_ about them. How could he ever be worried about such a trivial thing after all they'd been through?

And it wasn't that he _wanted_ to talk about what happened either. He didn't particularly want to bring up the final battle, or talk about all the people that had died, or all the horrible things they'd seen. He'd rather shove all those feelings in a padlocked box and lose the key in the Room of Requirement.

But... despite all of this, he just _couldn't_ go back to the way things were. He couldn't pretend.

It was so far from over that it seriously wasn't funny.

_* * *_

_I don't want to be alone  
But now I feel like I don't know you_

_* * *_

* * *

brionyjae xox


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